


Dr. E Teddysman

by Creatortan



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Toy Doctor Eric, just some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatortan/pseuds/Creatortan
Summary: Toy doctors perform a vital service to the community, fixing up well-loved stuffed animals and dolls so they can be returned to their owners safe and sound.Dr. E Teddysman stumbled into his profession, but he became the best damn toy doctor in South Park.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Dr. E Teddysman

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my friend Eric’s hc about toy doctor Eric!! [Here's where I originally posted the fic and Eric's og post!](https://bit.ly/3bUSPlX)

It happened by accident.

Eric had always cared deeply about his toys—at his darkest times they were his closest friends and confidants. But as a rough and tumble kid, it was inevitable they would get scuffed up at some point

So he fixed them. He sewed up their clothes, reattached button eyes, filled their bodies with new stuffing. Some projects were harder than others—a strange stitching pattern, a difficult fabric, etc—so he learned. He looked up sewing books and videos and practiced on scraps of fabric.

He liked doing it a whole lot. Seeing a problem and knowing how to fix it, going out to buy supplies, sitting down with a needle and thread, and finally seeing the finished product. It was so calming. It was so rewarding. It gave him something to focus on, something to do with his hands, and he had a physical reminder of all his efforts at the end. Proof that he did it, that his work was real and it meant something, even if its meaning was just in a stitched up arm of a teddy bear.

He started looking for more projects. Started going to thrift stores and under picnic tables, looking for abandoned, broken toys to fix up.

He wasn’t trying to hide it, but he still jumped when Butters mentioned it. It was fine, though, since Butters seemed more awed than anything else. Soon, Eric started keeping Butters around, asking him to get things like an errand boy. Butters, always the quick learner, was able to memorize Eric’s supply closet and be a big help.

It was Butters, actually, who compared Eric to a toy doctor, and well, didn’t that make Butters his nurse? Turning it into a game tied in Eric’s love for the toys, the human element he gave every one as he stitched up their wounds. No longer was he fixing toys—he was attending to his patients.

Butters was his first real client. It was a faded, raggedy little bunny plush that Butters had been given years ago. Eric remembered it, and he remembered how Butters stopped bringing it over because it had gotten ripped a little by accident. The wound was covered in tape, but Eric was able to save him.

Soon, it wasn’t just Butters who knew, because if there was anyone Eric couldn’t keep a secret from, it was Kenny. Ken didn’t mention it when Eric pulled out a toy and started stitching its eyes back on while they watched TV. But a week later, he did bring Eric one of Karen’s favorite toys—a cheap, battered little monkey from the Park County State Fair.

Kenny had wanted the velcro on the hands replaced, so Karen could wrap the monkey’s arms around her bike handles without losing it. Eric did one better—and gave the little monkey an entire makeover.

He even sent the monkey back with a little note, prescribing 3 kisses and a tummy rub a day so the patient could recover from surgery, “doctor’s” orders.

It wasn’t long before word spread among the younger kids of South Park. Craig had showed up one day with a stuffed Valentine’s Day bear he’d gotten from Tweek, just a week after Tricia had gotten one of her My Little Pony plushes fixed.

Soon, Eric had become the resident Toy Doctor of South Park. He started charging—but to the surprise of everyone—his prices were affordable.

Too affordable, according to Kyle, who was suspicious about what Eric was “planning.” But no one else was worried—even Stan had an old Webkinz repaired.

Kyle wasn’t impressed, but he couldn’t find anything against Eric. It wasn’t until Einstein the Elephant met a horrible fate at the jaws of an overexcited dog that Kyle was forced to change his tune. There was no one else who could save Einstein, Kyle’s faithful companion given to him at only two hours old.

Kyle, who pretended he didn’t understand the hype around toys and stuffed animals, was half hyperventilating as he banged on Eric’s door, barely able to keep his cool. He practiced his line over and over—“can you do this? My mom would flip if she found out it got wrecked”—but what really came out was “can you fix him?”

And Eric, a professional doctor, rushed the poor elephant into the ER. Kyle stayed overnight, sleeping on the couch, barely talking. And hours later, Einstein was returned, safe and sound.

Kyle, relieved, was almost unable to get his thanks out—but Eric could tell anyways.

Kyle stayed for a bit, not knowing how to leave as Einstein was tucked safely in his arms. They talked about toys and what they mean to their owners, they talked about childhood, they talked about the innocent fun of trrating a stuffed animal like a friend.

Kyle asked Eric about the procedure, genuinely interested, and was the first to suggest Eric take his “medical practice” outside of South Park.

And so, Dr. E Teddysman, often referred to as simply Dr. Teddy, found his way to the Internet, and was able to help many more clients, with Nurse Butters, and their manager, Mr. K.


End file.
